The small craft village of Wylkstone slept silently under the full moon and the blanket of stars. Wylkstone was the sort of picturesque place that neither expected nor received trouble of any sort. The village's inhabitants had a stubborn pride in their chosen home, doing all they could to ensure it remained a peaceful and beautiful place.

At midnight, trouble casually invited itself to Wylkstone, in the form of a tall, muscular, tan and white furred cat, stalking the streets looking for something specific. Attra of the Elysia had been ordered to tie up one of the loose ends. Anticipating the Phoenixbrook lockdown and the heightened security round the country's borders, both Attra and the Elysia leader, Alder, were already in the country of Aredria. The other officer, Ashden, remained at their headquarters in Mosternal, putting final pieces of their plans into place and keeping a watchful eye on the massed Elysia soldiers.

Attra, meantime, had been charged with the task of visiting Kela, the mouse who the Elysia had blackmailed into planting the bomb that had obliterated the Burrow nightclub. Jarret had demanded that, in return for his life, Kela would use his considerable information gathering skills for Jarret from now on. Though Attra was unaware of that development, the Elysia disliked loose ends. Kela knew too much and his usefulness was long since over. It didn't take a lot of imagination to figure out what Attra would do once he found the mouse journalist.

And since it was Attra who had been here just a month ago to blackmail Kela, he knew it wouldn't take very long for him to reach that house...

Around that same time, somewhere to the north of Aredria, the Elysia leader stood at the edge of a large forest, near the country's northern cliffs. He watched the moonlit view of the sea, all the reflections shifting and rearranging in endless patterns, the sound of lapping waves faintly audible. Whatever his organisation stood for, and however twisted his aims, he nonetheless appreciated what was an extremely restful view.

As with the Elysia officers, Alder was a feline. He was of average height and much the same build as Jarret. His fur was mostly white, except for a black 'mask' round his eyes, which closer resembled the markings of a racoon. One eye was long since gone, covered by a grey eye patch, a scar visible just above it and running halfway down his cheek. He wore a floor length, black leather jacket, black jeans and a dark grey shirt, his dark brown hair trailing halfway down his back. He looked more like a member of a dark goth rock band than the ruthless leader of a hated organisation.

Alder's left paw was a mess of scars, looking to all the world as though it had been plunged into a furnace and burned almost out of recognition. This was the curse resulting from his initial experiments with the Kiera stones that contained powerful snowkitten magic. This power had been corrupted by Alder into something he and his officers could use, granting them spells on a par with Jarret's magic. They also gained healing abilities above and beyond that of snowkittens, making the Elysia leader and his officers utterly invincible. However, finding ways to channel that power had cost Alder his paw, though he considered it a very small price to pay for the rewards, and of course for "the cause."

The Elysia leader was infamous for doing everything in a calm, unhurried manner. Few people had ever seen him lose his temper. He didn't need to. If he was angry about something, people knew about it just from the look in his eyes. And very often from the subsequent, ferocious blast of spell energy, unleashed with great force towards whoever or whatever had enraged him. But to hear him speak and see him going about his business, nobody would have known he was one of the most vicious, hate filled people on the planet.

He calmly took his black mobile phone out of a coat pocket, noting the lack of messages or missed calls, and placed it back seemingly with just as much unconcern. He knew Attra would accomplish his task eventually. Attra never failed him.

Attra stood at the end of Kela's path. The upstairs light, doubtless one of the bedrooms, wasn't on but a light of some sort nonetheless flickered on and off. Evidently Kela was fond of late night films.

The Elysia officer, under the cover of dark, hadn't bothered with a disguise. Perhaps it was arrogance, but he firmly believed that at this time of night, nobody would see him, much less recognise him. And even if anyone did, they wouldn't survive long enough to tell what they'd seen sneaking through the streets of Wylkstone.

Attra moved swiftly to the front door, feeling slightly disappointed that nobody had seen him, which would have provided an ideal excuse to have used "preventative measures" to cover his tracks. From a pocket, he produced a small black device that vaguely resembled an oblong cockroach. Pressing it against the door, he waited a few seconds before the barely audible click told him the lock had been defeated. Quietly, very quietly, the feline crept into the house of his intended victim, closing the door silently behind him. Halfway up the stairs, one of the steps made a sudden creak and Attra froze instantly, standing like stone as he waited to see if his approach had been detected.

Clearly the sound of the TV set had masked the creak of the step. Attra continued his advance, up the remainder of the stairs and across the plush blue carpet. He stood silently peering through the doorway of the bedroom. A tall backed chair was in front of the TV and he could see Kela's paw on the armrest, tapping along to the bland music from whatever late night show he watched. Pleased that even now, he still had the element of surprise, Attra removed a medium sized, completely black gun from the folds of his coat.

Aiming the gun at the back of the chair, Attra snarled, "Gotcha!" and opened fire. The powerful energy bolt it launched tore straight through the back of the chair and the seated figure, before striking the TV set, causing it to explode in a small, but noisy, fireball.

Amid the sound of the flames and fizzing of the fried electronics, Attra plucked out his small red mobile phone, clicking it open. One jab of a button connected it to Alder's phone. "It's done. Yeah... no chance. There isn't a hope in hell he'd survive that..."

As Attra ended the call, a familiar voice from the smoking chair snarled, "Don't bet on it."

The Elysia officer span round as Jarret, not Kela, stood up from the chair to face him, the gaping wound in his chest vanishing rapidly as his healing powers kicked in. He commented calmly, "You owe me for a new t-shirt..."

"Where the hell is Kela?!" Attra snarled in exasperation, aiming the gun at Jarret's face.

The black furred snowkitten grinned, not a trace of concern on his face. "He's mine..."